- Katherine Creighton: What are you really?
- Chandler: I'm a relic.
- Katherine Creighton: I can see that. What do you do?
- Chandler: I guarded computers. I was a certified rent-a-cop. It was a scenic job. You clock in, clock out. I got tired. Thought I'd go up to San Quentin, and strap myself into an electric chair.
- Katherine Creighton: Except at San Quentin, it's the gas chamber.
- Chandler: Right.
- Katherine Creighton: Nothing ever works out.
- Chandler: [chuckles] Of course not.
- Ross J. Carmady: The young lady knows too much. And anyone who knows too much is dangerous to everyone. As I'm sure you understand.
- Bernie Oakman: There's a female arriving tomorrow morning by train, 7:48am. Caucasian. French. Brown hair. Height: 5 feet three and a quarter. Weight: 103 pounds. Appendix scar.
- Chandler: Who does your research?
- John Melchior: I told you to get her and bring her back. Untouched! And that means by you as well as anybody else.
- Bernie Oakman: You knew as well as I did right there and then that something stank, unless you're a helluva lot stupider than I taught you. Go take your self-righteousness elsewhere. I'm not immoral.
- Chandler: We've been had, honey.
- Katherine Creighton: What can we do?
- Chandler: I don't know. Nothing. Something.
- Chandler: What can I do for you, angel?
- Angel Carter: How did you know my name? That my name was Angel, Angel Carter?
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